The Land Between Worlds
by crosescribblesoutlook.com
Summary: Journey with me to the Land Between Worlds. We join Sally as she tries to make amends for her mistakes in life. She wasn't counting on meeting trolls, knights, cavemen, beatniks, witches, monsters of rudeness, walking contradictions and form changing personas but it makes for a surreal and magical adventure.


Chapter 1

She saw the window to her discontent. There were men and women dressed sharply in crisp suits throwing money in the air. There were stunning young women selling their beauty for peanuts, quite literally they were peeling their luscious lips off and dismantling their thighs for nuts in payment. They cupped the shells like babies and scattered, funny she'd always thought that beauty bought designer handbags and fast cars. There were many mysteries to be uncovered in her higher brain. Her mother was there and she somersaulted over the very moon and chipped a piece off with her foot, catching it with ease as she tumbled back down to land graciously. It was a wedge of cheese, the real stinky kind and it let off steam as she devoured it like a prowling wolf, pushing people away when they came near to her. Her father was in a straight jacket and he multiplied in a diagonal line and laughed in a most hideous way. His eyes were puffy and purple, then he clawed out chunks of his beard and showered her in a hairy confetti.

If you were at this point hoping for a story about a young woman falling in love with a dashing young man. Or a vampire who is tortured yet noble. Or a tale of exotic spice markets and jasmine filled bath tubs then I suggest another tale may be for you. And I will not be a conventional narrator. This is a warning. I intend to unmask, in this tale, the very meaning of everything. I am not interested in what is real and beautiful, nor is the land where our tale unfolds. This is the story of Sally Piper and it is told by me, here from my eye in the sky. I am an essence of the Universe and the words I use are created in the way a true narrator should use them- to enlighten. I digress with my interlude and I turn to our story once more...

The images, whether real or in Sally's minds eye, were a warning of a young woman alone. A warning of the Universe plotting against her for a greater purpose, yet to be revealed but very close to quenchable discovery. And darkness came and then a multitude of dancing lights. In the centre of the lights was a circle and it throbbed and pulsed with kinetic energy and something deeper until it imploded and she was speeding along once more. Her face pressed to her containment and made her look like an astronaut training in a gravity free chamber, the fat in her cheeks tumbling about her face in ripples and grooves. Her eyes took in houses. They were bright and generic with the charm and air of a suburban ghost town and she danced above them against her will as she was taken, on her voyage past a hundred people with sad faces and big wet eyes all rocking in their chairs on their American style porches, as though on the brink of a discovery that never quite climaxed.

Her motion kept rolling, past hills with inconspicuous doors, housing fear, past a river with strange moans. As though the drowned haunted the waters and they gave their ghostly song in pandemonium. She kept on moving, all the time on the verge of excited delirium and fearful palpitations. The mixture of the two created false labour pains deep inside and made her reach out to try and grab the air, but there seemed to be nothing to touch. It was most unusual because she was certain she was not flying. She questioned in her mind if she would wake up when reaching the end, but soon convinced herself that the only slumber she would find again would be in the depths of a never ending daydream. Even if life was restored. Even if her flesh was warm and sculpted to her bones for eternity she would never wake from this dream. Such that her flesh was cold and clammy and the dread came to the surface like a bad omen.

Soon a new kind of darkness came, a kind of translucent darkness. It was the protection of a forest against the heat and scolding light from up above. She passed right through trees and in the process saw the telling age in the glowing rings within. They did not disclose the secrets of this ancient landscape. The floor beneath her sang like a choir of alien children. It was compelling but terrifying at the same time. It made her cold skin shudder and the glowing forest made her appear as an angel of death, come to crush the foliage and send them to their graves. Voices whispered and tested her sanity. It was a mask anyway. In trying times anybody could let their mask slip to meet their own ends.

She began to slow, not in a way that matched the jolts of her heart but in a fluid motion that echoed the cool blood pumping to her finger tips, turning back around at the nails and marching on again. It was a gradual process and all the time she thought that the grim reaper would be waiting for her and she would go gladly into his arms if it meant she would find her release from her torment and pain.

She finally stood to a holt amongst a field of upside down, beautifully lit fungal statues. Mushrooms of the sort you were not likely to want to chop for your dinner. They were little monsters in psychedelic coats. The groves that met the stems were their teeth and they stood on their heads in a perfect disguise, biding their time for their ambush. Sally listened to the queer sounds. She did not want to move out into the unknown, even if she was certain that death could not find her yet again in her current state. But fate can push and prompt us against our will and in one singular motion that felt like she was surrounded by water and flying through the air, the pressure forced her out of her cocoon onto her hands and knees on the forest floor. She was a butterfly now. A new species that was yet to find it's wings and be whole. She stood for a long time, looking at the shades of deep purple, turquoise and olive. Like the forest was given an artistic face lift with computer software whilst retaining the natural beauty. The mushrooms swayed gently, yet there was no breeze. And as if sensing her near to them, they opened like upside down umbrellas and every pore lit up on their surface beckoning her to inspect them closer.

As she found her feet, feeling slightly nauseous and unsteady, the flowers beneath that made a vivid carpet on the forest floor began to make music of their own from the contact of her feet. They played a song as she walked towards the mushroom. Sally convinced herself it was here comes the bride. Perhaps the flowers were trying to tell her some truths that she had believed were false hoods in life. That there was such a thing as love, true love. That she was alive after all and she would one day return to her life, possibly marry and have children. And that everything was connected and that all of our fates, not only that of families, were destined to tread the same path sooner or later.

The mushrooms began to quiver and Sally saw in wonder that tiny creatures were crawling out of them. They looked like gnomes. They were all wonderfully well groomed and fashioned their moustaches and beards into twirls and curls and pointed them up towards the sky as though reaching for some kind of spiritual greatness. They scattered away in directions. One of the gnomes almost ran straight into her foot and she was glad to find that she was not a ghost at all but as solid as the thing that shook it's fist and cursed at her in a language she could not decipher. Perhaps it was the case that these tiny bachelors did not like the intrusion of her voluptuous female form in their territory.

The mushrooms called and they began to move around in circles. Then all closed but one. This was meant for Sally surely or it would have closed like all the others. And her logic saw her creep closer and closer until her cool breath fanned down at the tiny creature in slumber. His thoughts in sleep seemed peaceful, though he fidgeted and frowned on occasion with what she assumed was the worry of the day before catching up with him in dormancy. And there in the center of his elaborately carved furnishings, was a huge diamond. It reflected the luminosity of the mushroom in a thousand dancing tricks. If Sally could take this diamond and get back to her life she would be a new kind of woman. The lady of leisure who answered to nobody and was able to live her life in a way that did not compromise her ideals. Family life would be perfect again, just like one of those shining examples on a black and white cereal packet advertisement from a by gone and golden age.

But as Sally reached out for this diamond. Her eyes glistening like two blue fire balls about to crash into the earth with not a care for their devastation, the mushroom reacted, as living things are likely to do. It snapped tightly shut around her hand and squeezed. Cold sweat dripped from her forehead and fell onto the mushroom with a splash as she used the weight of her body to try and pull away and ease the tightening pressure on her wrist. Then there was a sharp pain in her finger and she felt the blood begin to trickle into the unknown. Her eyes could not see what inflicted the pain and it caused fear and panic and she began to pull harder until the mushroom decided to finally take pity on her and let her go. She crashed back into the flower bed and the force of her body caused them to let out one giant musical note like the final scene from a film were the thief is dramatically brought to justice and all that is good prevails as the hero holds the heroine in a tight embrace and the end credits rise.

She grabbed her finger. Her blood was blue and dark and she feared she may be a child of darkness now. Alone and cursed to wander lonely and aimlessly in this strange and hostile new world. The gnome was jumping up and down, screaming a warning at her through hisses and spit was gathering white and frothy in the corners of his mouth like a rabid dog.

She was afraid and confused. She believed herself to be dead but this strange place did not match up to her expectations of Heaven or Hell. Perhaps it was purgatory. Perhaps she was dreaming. But the pain was still real and she grabbed her finger as tiny drops of blood fell to the ground and made the flowers whistle. She backed away from the mushrooms and planned to run but then she saw her vehicle. It was black, tiny bolts of lightning were pounding the shiny ball from within and they broke the surface slightly leaving cracked scars. Mist crept out, it smelled potent, like Sulphur and made her choke and heave. It was a visual representation of how she felt. Life had cracked her too, yet the hope of repairing those cracks clung to her like a bad smell. She needed a second chance. She would withstand the stench of fowl eggs and be struck by the lightning a thousand times over if she could get home and make her life the way she wanted it to be.

She began to move towards the ball. This metaphysical vehicle. When a voice rang like a bell from behind her. It was sweet enough to make butter melt and the flowers rose in respect.

'Sally, dear Sally. Let me welcome you. Yes!'

Sally spun on one foot like a toy soldier. The soft voice carried authority and she was aware of her own self more astutely now she seemed to have company. The vision that met her when she turned was a dream woman. It conjured feelings of envy when her eyes met her waspish waist and her sight travelled to her glistening hair that tumbled into perfect ringlets. When Sally saw her angelic features she felt frozen. The curve of her nose, her big round gleaming eyes painted hypnotic green seemed to rival the green eyed monster forming inside herself. If she would have been beautiful then things would have been different, she was certain. Dousing herself in beauty products, changing her hairstyle, and buying the most chic designer clothes had only ever turned her into the bride of Frankenstein. Artificially created and wed to a contrived entity. It was instantly gratifying but she could never venture off the stage and sink into the real world in confidence as a fake.

This woman was the real thing. She watched Sally watch her and a smile formed in satisfaction.

'Allow me, if you would be so cordial my dear, to introduce myself. I am Queen Priscilla and I am a Persona. I understand that you are a child of the Earth and I see by the state of your essence ball'... she gestured in the vehicles direction as the lightening struck dramatically causing debris to fly in fear , 'that you are in need of some guidance.'

Sally willed her lips to part but her tongue had been captured. Her eyes were drawn to the book and quill in Priscilla's hand. Perhaps she was a guardian. Maybe those big, white, pearly gates were not real. Perhaps this woman would scribble down her name and she would be granted access to an eternal kingdom up in the sky where she could wait for her loved ones in bliss until life had spat them out too.

'Your heart still beats Sally. Back in your world, your heart beats for its life. There is a chance that I will let you back if you take heed of my advice. Now, you will try and do that won't you my little sweet rose... won't you? Yes! I know that you will. I would hate to think of you joining the village of lost souls Those poor things. I tried to help them, truly I did dear. But they just didn't make the cut and now they're trapped. It just breaks my heart every day...'

Sally put her hands into her pockets of her jeans and hoped for some kind of magic wand. A wand made of unicorn horn and phoenix tears that could whisk her away. That could make everything right. That would set her life back on track and make everybody proud. Magic might win were she had so stunningly failed.

'What do I have to do your Highness?' Sally was so frazzled and she pinched her skin on her thigh in her pocket. It triggered a pain receptor. She was hoping that it would wake her up if she was sleeping. But in her dreams she would not be able to even conceive of the beautiful woman before her. The things she knew were real and the things she had assumed were made up swirled around in her psyche and she could no longer make a distinction between the two juxtaposing ideas. So she decided to play her part on this new stage. Perhaps she would wake when the play was finished if she was really still alive.

'I come bearing gifts my poor little child. Oh yes! A fine gift I do carry and it's all for you! Please, don't rush to thank me. I'm just a humble Queen performing my duty. It's a burden but I forfeit my pleasures to help you poor lost souls. And how lost you are dear Sally. You are the saddest child of earth I've ever met. Selfish, proud, materialistic, and not at all a vision on the eyes! But you can change and I'm certain you will. I mean, if you join the village of lost souls I would get very little reward naturally. Your soul would be mine to take but that would only give me a pitiful few years towards my immortal goal so you needn't worry at all that I would try and lead you astray. Hahahahahahaha! That would be _wrong_! Yes yes yes. All _wrong_!'

Sally was growing to dislike this woman. She began to notice how the arch in her nose was very angular and cruel. She saw her constant pout as a sign of vanity and her hair was a preened shield that stopped anyone from getting close to her thoughts. Although nobody would need to because she seemed incapable of saying anything that wasn't completely in awe of herself. But the meek shall inherit the earth, perhaps they would inherit this strange place too.

Sally waited a few moments while Queen Priscilla admired her dress that flowed to the ground and twirled whilst flattening the silk to her hips. She pursed her lips and then her impatience got the better of Sally, silently disapproving of the spectacle before her of over appreciation of the self. Her voice came out much quieter than she expected.

'Is the book for me?' She couldn't see anything else that might be gifted to her. Unless Queen Priscilla was a witch and she made something appear out of thin air. It would not surprise her. Not after what she had seen. Not in her current setting that flashed in and out of clearness like a neon shop window sign.

'Oh yes! Come get it. It's yours. You have lots of work to do. You must fill in each page with blood and sweat my dear little earth child. Not literally I mean! Hahahahahah. That would be barbaric although it could make for a very artistic challenge. You must write write write down every encounter in this world. But that simply will not do! Oh no! Too easy dear! You must learn from the fairytales you scribe. You must restore your essence and travel to my Palace for my approval. Then I may consider a home voyage, you do see? This quill will never end. It is enchanted. As a higher being I possess the gift of enchantment you see. One does not become Queen simply by one's looks. Hahahahahaha. Although one could try.'

Sally hesitated and then moved towards her. She had almost reached the book and quill when Queen Priscilla threw back her head like a jackal playing with it's prey and spat out in her angelic voice:

'Except you of course dear. You're far too ugly for any beauty contest.'

Sally stepped forwards and ripped the book and quill out of Queen Priscilla's hands. Her anger could not be contained any more. In the face of such rudeness she had to concentrate hard on all of the reasons why she shouldn't tell this woman, with lot's of the worst kind of expletives what she thought of her.

That's when the change came. Her were-state quivered. The lumps and bumps defaced her perfectly smooth white skin. Then she started to spasm and shake. Her head moved so violently from side to side that Sally thought it would come straight off and hit her in the head knocking hers off too.

As your narrator, with the purpose to enlighten I must intervene at this point. Persona's are higher being's that are neither good nor evil. Such a binary distinction is over simplified and will simply not do. As beings we embrace the whole spectrum. Personas are an embodiment of this spectrum and their physical form reflects their position on the spectrum of good and evil depending on many different factors including mood, status, circumstance, occurrences and feelings. It is no surprise that one persona can have dozens of embodied physical states and Sally has managed in her gesture of snatching a book and questioning the Queen's authority to bring about an even less likeable side of this socially elevated Persona. I compare a persona to a child. Yet to develop a solid personality that grounds them in their morals and beliefs, dynamic and changing constantly in reaction to what so ever they are faced with at the time. This insight may enlighten you as to the current events of our tale. I will pick up where I left off. The beginning naturally leads to the end and it has always been so.

Sally thought about running away. But if what she had been told was true, then this eccentric and self admiring woman was the only one who could give her what she truly desired. So she stood and she watched. Priscilla began to change, her dress slowly turned dark purple and worn. Her lumps and bumps formed into spots and boils, hairy and brimming with puss. Her lovely yet cruel features accentuated into peaks and troughs and her hair receded were it met her forehead and turned grey, limp and wispy. All the while the shaking and twitching was slowing down until an unrecognisable woman stood before Sally with scowl and frown and the look of murder in her slit like squinty eyes.

'You hateful earth child'. She gargled, almost coughing up her spite and hatred. 'You have no idea you ungrateful little beast, what you do! I work day and night to save your pitiful souls and this is my thanks. I hope you never get back to your hideous family! I hope your skull gets crushed by a giant!'

She rubbed her hands together and looked to the treetops. Then she let out a whistle. It was shrill as long nails scratching down a door. From above her lowered a bird. A raven thick with black and purple feathers. It's head was at first lowered, but when it raised it's beak to squawk Sally saw in disbelief that it had the face of a man. It's beak was the only feature that was not completely human. This creature swept Priscilla up in it's talons and began to carry her away.

'You can go it alone from here! I'm through with you. Brat!' She screamed with such fervor that she began to choke and splutter as she disappeared up into the tree tops and made her dramatic exit.

Sally was left with a bitter taste in her mouth and it wasn't the metallic twang of her own blood as she sucked her finger and spat the excess blood over her shoulder in an effort to sterilize the wound and prevent rabies spreading through her body. She had really seen it all now. Real life gnomes, morphing women, ravens with human faces. Was she trapped inside some twisted Dahli painting in her mind? Would time distort and elephants with long spindly legs come to carry her to a cracked egg were she would see herself be reborn? Probably not but it made her feel calmer to think it. She flipped open the book clumsily, whilst clutching the enchanted quill. It was a heavy tome and as Priscilla had mentioned, the pages were all blank. She wrote her name on the final page.

By Sally Piper.

She had always wanted to write a book. Maybe it would be a best seller here and she could flit with the money she made and start setting things right back home. Her conscience weighed heavy and she wanted those butterfly wings to lift her up, removing the weight and ridding her of past wrong decisions and carelessness.

What was she to do now? She had never been very good at doing things alone. She was like a performer. She could dazzle with her skills but only when she had somebody running things behind the scenes to make things go smoothly. She scanned the forest and headed back on herself. If she retraced her steps to the very beginning she may find some kind of mystic portal and upon entering she may even wake up warm and content in her bed.

Her finger didn't seem to be bleeding any more. On close inspection it seemed little more than a superficial scratch. So she moved fast through the glowing trees, dodging and weaving, bent on finding a way home. The strange sounds, she became accustomed to and so she thought nothing of the rumbles and thuds that suggested through nature's voice, that she should expect company once again...

At first she thought the trees were moving when she reached the clearing. Swaying, drunk on minerals and sunlight. She stopped to rest against a tree. The ground began to shake and vibrate. It caused her concern as she took the time to notice. Then before her the trees bent away from each other. There was a crunching sound as they were ripped apart and tossed away in disregard. It was a giant insect, covered in tell tale brightly coloured poisonous spots. It was moving around the circle of the clearing and travelling in her direction. It's mouth contained sharp pincers that sunk into the wood at intervals. If she didn't move, she would be crushed for certain.

She darted out from the cover of the final trees and made a run for the other side, wishing to fly, hoping for the powers of a gold medal winning sprinter. But as she ran through the clearing she was forced into submission by something she could not see, but that was made of matter as solid as she. She made her eyes focus. It was a plant. It's camouflage was a miracle of horticulture. It swayed gently and then she saw it open it's bud, and in a single second it had swallowed her whole.

It was dark. Fear gripped her as she heard the rumblings. She began to move within the plant's belly and it rocked her from side to side with the momentum. She curled into a fetal position to protect her head from bashing against the hard shell of the plants stomach. How glorious it would be if she were to be returned to her mothers belly with all the knowledge she possessed now. She would not make any of her mistakes a second time and life would be completely different!

Crushed matter and residue rose and fell, moistening her feet in her shoes and dampening her jeans and bottom. Would she slowly be digested by this plant? Would she never even get the opportunity for the second chance she was promised? If only she would have held her temper in check. She could have persuaded Queen Priscilla to take her home for good. She listened carefully. The rumbles and vibrations slowed down. She was left alone with her misery and discontent. Slowly, the cobwebs of the past began to clear, the receptors in her mind springing to life in their perilous predicament, beginning to trigger each other as one domino synapse knocked the next, until she relived the series of tragedies that brought her to the Land Between Worlds...


End file.
